by Belle Payton
“Al’s trying out for cheerleading tomorrow,” explained Ava. She was slightly out of breath. They’d just practiced the routine four times in a row, and Alex had goofed on some part of it each time.
“Al’s trying out . . . for cheerleading?” repeated Tommy, looking from one girl to the other with a look of surprise.
“Yes!” said Alex defiantly. “Why is that such a shock?”
“Oh, no, I didn’t mean that,” said Tommy quickly. “You’ll be awesome.”
“No, I won’t,” sighed Alex. “Ava’s so much better than I am, and I’ve been practicing this dumb routine all morning. She got it the first time through!”
“Well, maybe she can wear a wig and go as you!” said Tom with a grin. “You’ll be fine. Just don’t drop anyone on her head, okay, Al?” He drummed a comical buh-duh-bum! rhythm on the doorjamb and left.
“Okay,” Ava said, turning back to Alex. “Let’s try this one more—” She stopped.
Alex was staring at her with a thoughtful expression.
“No,” said Ava firmly. “Whatever it is, no.”
Alex was still looking at her, but then her gaze drifted upward, and she stared hazily into the middle distance, somewhere over Ava’s head.
Ava knew that look. Her sister was formulating a plan. And Ava felt a growing sense of unease. “Al. I mean it. It would never work. Not in a million years.” But she could see it was no use. Alex’s eyes were beginning to sparkle deviously.
CHAPTER
Four
Alex and Ava hadn’t switched places with each other in years. Ava recalled trying it on their mother a few times—little things, like when they were six and Ava wanted a third cookie. She tried to pretend she was Alex and asked for one. Or the times they’d tried switching places at the dinner table. Mrs. Sackett always seemed to know. Sometimes it had worked on their dad, but he usually figured it out after a few minutes. Although they’d talked about doing it many times, they’d never swapped roles with each other in a situation that counted, out in the real world.
“I have no clue how to be a cheerleader,” said Ava. She was still exhausted from practicing the routine, but now she wondered whether her elevated heart rate was caused less by the dance routine and more by anxiety at what her sister was proposing.
“You’re ten times better at it than I am, and you know it. Plus, you don’t have to make the team. You just have to get past first cuts so I can prove to Rosa that I can do it.”
Ava started to raise the point that it would prove nothing if Ava made the cut, rather than Alex. But she stopped herself. She knew from experience that Alex tended to adopt her own brand of logic in situations like this. She tried a different approach.
“We don’t look a thing alike.”
Alex scoffed. “We’re identical twins, Ave. The emphasis being on the word ‘identical.’ ”
“What about our hair? Mine’s short, yours is long. It won’t work. Case closed.”
“Case reopened. Remember that fake ponytail hairpiece Mom bought me two years ago when I was Princess Leia from Star Wars for Halloween? I still have it! Remember how she pulled together two-thirds of my hair and made a circle braid on one side and then attached that ponytail to the other third of my hair and coiled it into another circle braid on the other side?” She got a dreamy look on her face. “I looked awesome.”
“I refuse.” Ava put her hands on her hips. “Let the record show: I’m not going to wear my hair like Princess Leia.”
“You don’t have to, silly! But your hair is long enough that I can attach the fake ponytail to the back of your hair, and then we can smooth the rest into place with hair gel and tons of bobby pins, and it will look perfect. Just like mine.”
Ava could feel her resolve weakening. She had learned through experience that when Alex got like this, with that determined look in her eye, it was pretty much useless to resist. “It’s never going to work,” she muttered.
Alex bounded over and gave her a huge hug. “Thanks, Ave. You’re the best sister ever.”
“This is never going to work,” said Ava for what felt like the millionth time in the past twenty-four hours.
Alex looked up and managed, with some effort, not to laugh. Her sister was standing at the door of Alex’s room, dressed as though she were on her way to a basketball practice. Alex moved toward her twin and guided her into the room, closing the door quietly. This is going to require some delicate diplomacy, Alex thought.
“Of course it will work, Ave,” she said. “But first of all, we need to work on the outfit.”
“What’s wrong with my outfit?” asked Ava.
“Well, let’s start with the shorts. Those are for basketball. They’re long and baggy—totally wrong for cheering. Here, try these.”
She picked up a pair of neatly folded shorts from her dresser and handed them over.
Ava stared at the shorts. “Please tell me these are just the underwear.”
“No, they’re the shorts you need to wear. They’re snug-fitting so you can kick and stretch and stuff. Put them on.”
Ava stepped out of her basketball shorts and shimmied into the shorts Alex had given her.
“Good. Stop looking at me like that. Now we just need to fold down the waistband. Like this.” She moved around her sister, flipping down the waistband, and then tugging the shorts down a bit so they were sitting on Ava’s hips. “That’s how they wear them.”
Ava seemed speechless with horror, but Alex kept talking brightly. “And you can’t wear that baggy Patriots tee, Ave. You look like you, and we’re trying to make you look like me. Here, put this on.” She handed Ava a stylish, fitted periwinkle-blue athletic shirt with a V-neck.
“Also, you can’t wear basketball high-tops,” said Alex. She picked up her bright-blue cross trainers, which she’d bought for their fashion rather than their function. She hadn’t ever actually cross trained in them.
Ava stared at them. “Really?”
“Really. I couldn’t ask Mom to invest in real cheerleading shoes just for tryouts, especially because I’m not going to make the team. But these are better than your high-tops—those are a dead giveaway that you’re you, not me.”
Reluctantly, Ava bent down and untied her high-tops.
“Now you look awesome!” said Alex, when Ava stood before her in Alex’s clothes and shoes. “Let’s start on the hair and makeup.”
“Makeup?” Ava looked at her, stricken.
“Of course, makeup! It will be subtle. But you have to look like me, remember?”
She guided her sister over to her vanity table and pushed her gently down onto the padded bench. Then she got to work.
First Alex tackled Ava’s hair. The false ponytail looked pretty good, once she’d smoothed back the front of Ava’s hair with hair gel and lots of bobby pins. Then she set to work applying foundation, concealer, blush, shadow, liner, mascara. . . .
Ava was not good at sitting still. As Alex approached her with the eyelash curler, she recoiled as though her sister were brandishing an instrument of torture.
“What’s that thing?” she croaked.
“It doesn’t hurt,” said Alex. “It just curls your lashes. Trust me.”
“I don’t trust you.”
“Well, sit still anyway. I’m almost done.”
Ava whimpered quietly as Alex finally finished with her makeup. Then she took a step back and surveyed her sister’s face with a critical look.
“It’s pretty good,” she pronounced. “You look like me.”
Ava darted a wary look in the mirror. “I look totally ridiculous.”
“No, you don’t.”
“And my lips are sticking together.”
“You just have to get used to lip gloss. Now I need to get a bow for your ponytail, to cover up the place where it’s attached. That’s what cheerleaders wear: big bows. I’ll be right back. I think we have one in the Christmas decorations box. Don’t go away.”
“Where would I go, l
ooking like this?” Ava asked her own reflection in the mirror. Then a movement behind her made her swivel around. Tommy was standing in the doorway.
His mouth dropped open. From the look on his face, Ava could tell he wasn’t fooled by all the makeup she was wearing—he knew she was Ava.
Ava sprang up and pulled him into the room, closing the door behind him. “You can’t tell,” she said.
Tommy seemed to have lost the power of speech for the moment. He was goggling at her. At last he spoke. “What are you guys up to?”
“I couldn’t say no to her,” said Ava, her gaze dropping to the floor. Her glossed lips felt sticky, and her eyes itched, but she didn’t dare touch them with all the mascara she had on. “She asked for help with tryouts today.”
“Ha!” he laughed. “So you’re going to go as Alex and try out for the cheer squad?” Tommy seemed mesmerized by Ava’s transformation. He walked a complete circle around her, shaking his head in amazement.
Alex returned with the bow and didn’t notice Tommy at first. “It doesn’t quite match what you have on, but I think if we—” She stopped when she saw Tommy. “Oh,” she said quietly. “Hi. Don’t tell.”
“What if she makes it?” asked Tommy.
“She isn’t going to,” said Alex quickly. “She just has to get past the first round of cuts today. Then I’ll go tomorrow and get cut.” She explained to Tommy, briefly, how Rosa had challenged her. “But it’s not just to show Rosa,” she added quickly. “Evidently Coach Jen only considers taking a manager who tried out and got cut. She wants someone with a real commitment to the sport. So my plan is to get cut and ask to be the manager. It’s an easy way to fulfill my athletic requirement. And I’ll get to hang out with all my friends.”
Tommy folded his arms and looked from one girl to the other with narrowed eyes. “And just how do you propose getting to school without Mom or Coach seeing you?”
The girls exchanged a look. Neither of them had really thought about this. Of course, they could walk—it was just a little over two miles. But what if we run into someone we know? Ava thought.
Alex gave Tommy a pleading look. “Will you drive us? Please?”
Tommy grinned wryly. “Okay. Mom and Coach are in the kitchen. I’ll go tell them I’m willing to drive you guys. You should go out through the front door. But Al, you better put on something of Ava’s. You look too much like you. Not that Mom and Dad will be fooled if they see you—but other people might be.”
“Right! Good point!” said Alex. “I’ll go put on a football jersey of Ava’s.”
Ava couldn’t help grinning, despite her frazzled nerves. This would be something to see.
“All right. I’ll go down now. Give me a couple of minutes to get them talking, and then head to the car.”
The plan worked. Alex returned, having tucked her long hair up into a battered old Celtics hat she’d found in Ava’s room and put on a Patriots jersey. She and Ava tiptoed down the stairs and around to the side, where they sat in the car, waiting for Tommy.
“Mom better not come out here,” muttered Ava, tugging at the hem of her too-tight shirt. She took out her phone and used the camera to examine her shadowed, mascaraed eyes. “She’ll know in half a second we’re not who we say we are.” She surveyed her sister. “I wonder if Charlie would be able to tell if he saw us. I bet he would.”
“Oh! That reminds me,” said Alex briskly. “Try to work into the conversation that I—you—I mean you, Alex, have broken up with Charlie.”
“And when am I supposed to casually work that into the conversation?” asked Ava. “Between backflips?”
“Just try to mention it, and if anyone asks you why, just say ‘it’s complicated’ and look like this”—Alex rolled her eyes upward, crumpled up her chin, and made her lower lip tremble, the picture of heartbreak—“and then change the subject.”
“And why have I—you—broken up with him, just out of curiosity?” asked Ava.
“Because I think Corey and Lindsey might like each other again, and there’s no danger of him asking me out twice, which might make Lindsey upset.”
Ava’s temples were beginning to throb. She would never remember all this.
“And also,” Alex continued, “as you and I both know, I’m a really bad liar. I keep forgetting what I’ve told people and acting clueless when they bring something up I forgot I said. People keep mentioning Charlie and I keep saying, ‘Charlie who?’ and I just want to stop lying to people. It isn’t right, and it’s exhausting.”
“Yes, because what we’re doing right now is perfectly moral,” said Ava drily.
“This is different,” said Alex. “We’re not lying to people outright. We’re just switching places for a day.”
Ava realized that Alex actually thought her reasoning was logical. Her twin was excellent at rationalizing.
“Here comes Tommy,” said Alex. “Get down, quick. Mom is waving to us from the window.” She waved quickly at their mother and then pulled down the brim of her Celtics cap.
A few minutes later they were on their way to the middle school.
Tommy kept looking in the rearview mirror at Ava and stealing sidelong glances at Alex. “This is kind of freaking me out, you guys,” he said.
“It’s freaking me out too,” said Ava, as they pulled into the school parking lot. “What are you going to do during the clinic?” she asked Alex.
“I’ll watch as much as I can,” said Alex. “So when you make first cuts, I’ll know what to expect at tryouts tomorrow. But I need to do it on the sly. I’m supposed to be you, and you would never sit in the stands and watch. There’s no way you could stay still that long.”
Tommy nodded in agreement as he stopped the car, then turned and grinned at them. “Good luck, Ava-I-mean-Alex. Be great. But not too great.”
“Thanks,” said Ava.
She and Alex joined the groups of girls heading into the school. “Remember,” whispered Alex, “smile a lot. Laugh at what people say. Gossip with my friends. Talk about my favorite TV shows and bands. You know, just be me!”
A wave of anxiety shot up and down Ava’s spine as her sister gave her arm an encouraging squeeze.
“I’ll be with you in spirit!” whispered Alex, as Ava followed the rest of the group into the gym. “Good luck!”
CHAPTER
Five
Alex watched her sister walk into the gym, which was crowded with girls trying out, along with parents, high school cheerleaders, and a couple of coaches standing with clipboards. She realized the taller one must be Coach Jen.
“Alex! Over here!” called a girl standing near the bleachers.
It was Emily. She was standing with Lindsey and Rosa. Alex started to wave back and then remembered she was Ava. Close one! She watched Ava join her friends and could tell by the way they were gesturing that they were telling Ava how cute she looked. “Smile, Ave!” whispered Alex under her breath. She couldn’t tell whether Ava was smiling.
Stepping out of the doorway, Alex hurried down the dim corridor. She’d go to one of the side entrances of the gym, which opened behind the bleachers, so she could spy on the clinic without being noticed.
“Alex! Over here!”
Ava almost didn’t look in that direction, but then remembered she was supposed to be Alex. Emily was beckoning to her. She was standing with Lindsey and another girl—was her name Rosa? She should have gone over all the names with Alex ahead of time. One more flaw in a series of flaws that made up this very bad plan. She walked over, remembering to smile. She felt her bow swivel a little and readjusted it. All she needed was to have her fake ponytail fall off.
“You look adorable!” squealed Emily, and Lindsey smiled at her. Rosa stopped looking around the gym for a moment to nod.
“Thanks,” said Ava. And then, remembering she was Alex, “So do you! I love that, um, shirt. Those glinting sparkly things are awesome.”
“We were just talking about Saturday Central last night. Did you watch it
?” asked Lindsey.
Ava knew enough to know that was a popular comedy show, although she rarely watched it with Alex. She tried to remember whether Alex had watched it last night, but Ava had been down in the study, watching film with Coach until pretty late. She went for the noncommittal response. “Oh! Ah! Ha-ha!” she said.
“I know, right?” Lindsey said, evidently taking that for a yes. “And wasn’t Director Peal totally, like, amazing?”
“Director Peal?” repeated Ava. “Um, I think I missed that part. Does he have a new film?” Emily and Lindsey stared at her blankly.
“Direct Appeal?” prompted Emily. “That new band that you are crazy about? Didn’t you say you have a total crush on Nigel?”
“Oh! Oh, right!” said Ava. She could feel beads of sweat breaking out on her upper lip and hoped her makeup wouldn’t streak. “Right. I totally have a crush on Nigel. Don’t tell Charlie!” Then she remembered Alex’s instruction. “Except maybe you should, because we just broke up!” She resisted the urge to cover her face with her palms, remembering how much bronzer she was wearing. This scheme was never going to work.
Lindsey and Emily looked shocked.
“Oh, Alex! You and Charlie broke up? I’m so sorry!” said Emily. “What happened?”
“It’s . . . complicated,” croaked Ava miserably. An image flashed in her mind of the expression Alex had demonstrated—she had looked like she was suffering from indigestion. Ava just couldn’t bring herself to try it. And besides, she, Ava, really did have a sort-of boyfriend named Charlie. So how could Alex expect her to pretend to be Alex, pretending to have a boyfriend named Charlie, pretending to have broken up with him? The upside-down-and-backward situation felt like one of those books about time travel that always made Ava’s head swim.
It was Rosa who changed the subject, and Ava silently thanked her.
“So I talked with Sam last night.”
Ava knew Sam Haskins was one of the eighth-grade captains.
“She said first we’re going to run through the routine from the video in small groups,” Rosa said. “And then we learn a cheer, a new dance routine, and a jump sequence.” She turned to Ava. “How’s your pike? Have you been working on it?”
